


One Bullet

by deviance



Series: Split-Second Soulmates [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Assassin AU, M/M, Mentions of Blood, not happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:36:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7119616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviance/pseuds/deviance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aomine never misses his mark. Never.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Bullet

**Author's Note:**

> So this drabble series is something I'm doing to practice my angst. Every story will end with at least one major character death. This isn't going to be happy, folks.

Aomine took his spot in front of the window, opening up his case and pulling out the stand. At 27, he was used to deciphering from the many shades of gray that colored his vision in order to pick out the darker black of metal. After turning 18 and having all the colors bleed out of his life, it’d taken some time to get used to it, but now it was automatic. And after 8 years of never finding his soulmate, never having the colors come back to him, he’d lost faith in that ever happening. It wasn’t unheard of, people never meeting their soulmates. And someone like Aomine hardly deserved to meet his soulmate anyways. 

He pulled the gun from its case, its familiar weight almost therapeutic. Becoming a hired assassin hadn’t been his first choice of work, but it definitely fit him better than he’d thought. It was easy; he only really had to hit a mark every couple months but he usually took at least one a month just because. 

The silencer was next and he twisted it onto the barrel smoothly. He scoped out his view from the window before him, checking his watch to see he still had a couple minutes. He went ahead and opened the window, closing his eyes for a moment as the soft breeze brushed against his face. 

He brought his face to the gun, lining his sights and peering through the scope to check. He still had about five minutes before his target would be arriving, but he could be early. His finger settled on the trigger, his breaths evening out. His eyes narrowed with focus. 

His target this time was some bigshot CEO who’d been climbing the business ladder and making quite a name for himself, even at such a young age. From what Aomine had gathered, the other was barely older than himself and already talking with some other businesses about partnerships. Unfortunately, he’d been making two enemies for every one friend and one enemy had been willing to go a bit further than the others to make sure he didn’t see tomorrow. 

He checked the scope again, seeing movement in one of the windows a bit further down. The apartment his target was in wasn’t so far that he couldn’t see it with plain sight—he was actually much closer than he usually got for a hit—but he wanted to be ready to take the shot once his target stepped out onto the balcony. 

The blinds covering the glass doors shifted and Aomine tightened his hold on his gun, waiting. Moments later, the door slid open and a guy stepped out of the apartment, phone to his ear and cigarette in his other hand. He leaned against the railing, looking out towards Aomine’s general direction. He said something else into the phone before ending the call, dropping it back into his pocket before taking another drag from his cigarette. He exhaled the smoke at the same time that Aomine breathed in, aiming. 

Just as he was getting it lined up, the guy seemed to look his way. His red eyes widened in surprise, meeting Aomine’s gaze just as Aomine pulled the trigger. 

Aomine blinked, pulling away from the scope to stare at the man on the balcony not twenty yards away. The sky was blue, the curtains by the window were purple, the light from his target’s apartment was yellow, but none of that had his attention. 

Red. His target was red. Red hair, red eyes, red blood seeping onto the balcony. Aomine was frozen in disbelief. There was so much red. Red. _Red. **Red.**_

And just as quickly as the colors had flooded into his life, they were gone. He blinked once more and he was returned to shades of gray. 

Aomine felt his fingers shaking and the gun dropped from his hands to the floor. He couldn’t look away from his target’s body. Just gray now. Dull, boring, empty, _dead_ gray. 

He couldn’t breathe. His entire world was spinning, shifting, _crumbling, shattering, **dying.**_

No. It was already dead. _He_ was already dead. His…His…His _**soulmate.**_

“I…” he opened his mouth to speak, not knowing who he was speaking to. Not knowing what he would say. What he _could_ say. 

He didn’t even know his name. He’d killed his soulmate and he didn’t even know his _name_. His voice. His laugh. His smile. His everything. All he knew, all he could associate with him, was red. 

And now he’d never see red again.


End file.
